Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
Lizzie arrived home to find her dad asleep in his chair, laptop still glowing, and her mom quietly wrapping presents for Sophie on the floor while little Daisy was sound asleep under the Christmas tree.
She quietly sat down next to her mom, and put her head on shoulder.
“Aw, well that’s sure nice,” she says quietly, not wanting to disturb Peter. “Did you have fun?” she asks as she makes some ribbon curls with an open pair of scissors.
“I did. I forgot what it’s like to have a friend who’s known you forever.” She picks up some art supplies for Sophie and doesn’t say anything else. “Alexis says hi back, by the way.”
“Aw, that’s nice. There’s a comfort and unspoken understanding with old friends that’s special, but you can make close friends later in life too. Like your friend Sarah at the paper, you two seem close.”
Lizzie shrugs, “Yeah, sort of. I mean, I really like her, she’s awesome, but she’s also married, has a kid and a fulltime job, there’s not a lot of room in there for friends. Which I completely understand. If I do see her outside of work she usually has her son, who is adorable, but it’s not like I have a movie friend, or coffee date friend.”
Her mom looks at her. “That sounds kind of lonely, honey.”
Not wanting to worry her mom she quickly perks up. “Oh, it’s not bad, and there’s lots of things that I go to on my own that are great, right in my neighborhood. Two weeks ago I went to a book signing and the author spoke, and it ended up being a really fun evening. She was really inspiring.”
“What was the book?” her mom asks, starting on another gift.
“The author was Callie Simmons, and she had kind of done her own, millennial version of an Eat, Pray, Love year. She lived in Brooklyn, Boston and the Berkshires, and it was about community, friendship, and making peace with yourself. Not constantly comparing your successes or lack thereof, with anyone else. It was about coming to terms with being an actual adult and realizing that doesn’t mean you have all the answers.”
Her mom laughs. “Did you think that’s what being an adult meant? Having all the answers?”
“Kind of?” She looks over at her sleeping dad. “I never saw you or dad falter, or seem to question what you were doing or the path you were on. You never seemed to skip a beat.”
“Oh honey, we faltered and flailed all the time! Maybe we should have let you and Matt see that more!” She gets up and puts another log on the fire and pokes it a bit. She comes back and sits down. “Adulthood isn’t about having all the answers, no one does, sweetheart. It’s more learning to be sort of okay with some uncertainty and realizing for the most part, unless you do something really stupid, things generally turn out okay.”
“How do you not do something really stupid? Asking for a friend,” Lizzie smiles, but is seriously concerned.
“I think you kind of just know? That’s why we listen to our gut, and ask others if we need to, but I think in general, we know what we’re supposed to do. But also? You’re not really living your life if you don’t do a few stupid things along the way. I’ve often learned the most from the things that didn’t go well.”
Lizzie sits and thinks, looking at the little gifts for Sophie, and starts to cry.
“Oh honey, what’s the matter?” Gabby says, pulling her into her.
“I don’t know, I have no idea why I’m crying. It’s just,” she wipes her nose on her sleeve and takes a deep breath. “I feel like I walk around all the time looking over my shoulder wondering when I’ll be discovered.”
“Discovered as what?” her mom gently asks.
“A fraud. Someone who has no idea what they’re doing.”
“At work?”
“At work, at life,” she takes a deep breath. “You saved people’s lives, you did something really valuable. I write about parking tickets and bridge closures.”
“Journalism is incredibly valuable, you respect what your dad has done, right?”
“Of course,” Lizzie says. “But that’s different. He’s never compromised himself the way we have to now. He never sold out.” Lizzie lets out a deep sigh and takes a sip from her mom’s glass of red wine sitting on the coffee table. “Hope you don’t mind,” she smiles. Gabby shakes her head.
Gabby gets up and goes into the kitchen and brings back an open bottle of wine and another glass. “Here,” she says, pouring a glass for Lizzie and handing it to her. “Life is full of compromises, my dear, we all do it, we just try to also do the things that count and matter to us.”
Lizzie takes a sip of wine. “You’re right, I can find other ways than just my work to feel like I’m contributing. Jack asked me to help him write up a proposal for the town, that’s something I can do to help out.”
“What kind of proposal?” Gabby asks, reaching the end of the pile of gifts.
“I’m not really free to say, but it is something that could be good for the community.”
Gabby smiles and nods, “I like it. And he would be lucky to have you helping him. You have an excellent way with words.”
“I second that,” says Peter, suddenly awake from his nap. “How long was I out?” He puts his hands through his hair and tries to rouse himself. “I cannot pull 16 hour days like I used to, that’s for sure.”
“Dad, no one should be working 16 hour days. Especially-”
“If you say, ‘at your age’ so help me,” he says laughing.
Lizzie puts up her hands, “Oh, I know way better than that!” She stands up, and picks up her wine. “I’m going to head upstairs. Oh, Dad, I don’t know if you saw them, but I sent you a couple of shots of the Seaward High School chorus at Sea Coast tonight, thought they’d be nice to have in the paper.”
“I did! Thank you honey. I forget how nice it is to have someone doing things like that, it’s a big help,” he stretches and tries to rouse himself.
“No problem,” she gives both her parents a kiss goodnight and heads out of the room. “G’night, love you guys,” she says as she heads upstairs.
“Love you too,” they both call after her.
As soon as he thinks she’s out of ear shot, Peter sits back in his chair, and sighs, “Boy, what I wouldn’t give to have her–”
Lizzie pauses on the stairs, feeling a little guilty eavesdropping, but curious about what her parents are saying about her.
Gabby gets up off the floor and moves to the couch. “I know, I know, but don’t pressure her, I’ve got a feeling she’s doing a lot of thinking on her own, but if she feels like we’re pushing her it may have the opposite effect.”
“Okay, I’ll stand down, I promise. It’s just so hard when Greylock Media is breathing down my neck. They call me every single week to see if I want to sell. Some weeks it’s tempting, but damn it, they own every other paper on the Cape now, and for no other reason than being the one holdout, I’m going to do my best to not ever let them have it. Having Lizzie here could make it a lot more possible to keep afloat. She could help grow the paper. I know it. But I’ll keep my mouth shut for now.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, because there is nothing I’d love more than to have her back here, and I know she could help you. I miss her so much, and I don’t think she’s really happy in Boston,” Gabby says.
Lizzie is now leaning on the banister, not wanting to miss a word of her mom’s assessment of her life.
“No?” Peter perks up, concerned.
“I think she’s fine, we don’t worry about her, it just doesn’t seem like things are all she hoped they’d be.”
“And you think they could be here?” Peter asks.
“I don’t know, we both know there’s no perfect life, but I just think maybe she could find more of what she’s looking for here, that’s all.”
“And let me guess, you think part of what she’s looking for is Jack.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I’ve got a feeling,” her mom says.
Lizzie’s face feels hot, what her mom thinks matters to her, she can’t possibly think she belongs with Jack.
Peter smiles at her. “I would never bet against you and your intuition, that’s for sure.”
Gabby smiles back at him, “Oh, you would lose every time.” She swings her legs around and curls up, “Sometimes I look at friends who are pushier with their kids and wonder if our mutual promise to never tell our adult children what to do is a good thing,” she says half-joking.
Peter laughs, “I hear you, but the good news is, because we don’t ever tell them what to do, they trust us and know we respect their autonomy. But I admit,” he says stretching out and yawning, “things did seem a lot simpler when they were little.”
“Big kids, big problems, little kids, little problems,” Gabby says. She takes a last sip of her wine. “Well my love, I am going to head upstairs too. Tomorrow is the big kickoff to the festival week and I need to be ready for anything.” She gets up and leans over to kiss Peter.
“I love you, Gabby,” Peter says, taking her face gently in his hands. “Oh! Before you go, listen to what she wrote.”
Gabby sits back down, and Lizzie is still listening, feeling like she’s 14.
“Okay, I’m all ears,” Gabby says.
“Listen to this, “A community without young people is a community without a future,” she writes . “We need to find a way to marry progress with protecting what we all love about Cranberry Harbor. In this twenty-first century we are lucky to know more than ever before about how to protect our precious environment, and how to use the technology we have not just for jobs, but to make our community and our planet, a better, safer place for all. I believe with the right people, the right ideas, and a consensus, we can create a community that is diverse, welcoming, has room for all who love it here, and will help it become an example for other communities across the state, across the country, and around the world.”
“Wow, that is incredible, she is definitely your daughter,” Gabby says.
“Our daughter, I can tell she still loves this town,” Peter says.
“She needs to figure that out herself, honey, we can’t force it on her,” Gabby says. “I am now off to bed. Don’t stay up too late.” She gives him a kiss.
“I love you, sweetie,” he says.
“I love you too,” she neatly piles up all her wrapping tools and equipment. “I’ll put all this away tomorrow,” she says. “Now that you had your nap you’re probably going to be up for a while,” she says. “I’m going to take Daisy out one last time for the night before I head up. Can you make sure the doors are closed on the fireplace, and that you turn off the tree?”
Lizzie quietly hurries up the stairs before her mom turns the corner.
Peter nods, “Yes, dear, I promise. Go get some sleep. I’ll be up before too long.”
Lizzie goes into her room and closes the door. Alexis, her mom, her dad, why does everyone think she’s going to end up back with Jack? Are they all seeing something she’s too stubborn to? Or is she actually the only one who is not being blinded by history, romance and Christmas?